The Lost King
by Kansas Ford
Summary: After centuries in the West, the sorcerers grow restless. They want more, and the Age of the Sorcerer begins. The Twelve Kingdoms of Peace fall subject to their greed, and the Race of Man is once again enslaved. Only one Royal Ranger carries their hope to the Old Lands for safety. Can this small ray of hope save Man from the from the Twelve Sorcerers determined to control them?
1. Forward

Forward

There were once Twelve men, all different in talent and levels of skills. They came together and used their gifts to bring peace to their land, which was divided into twelve sovereigns. Their people elected the twelve men their kings, and they established a government between themselves. They ruled over the lands with a just hand, and peace reigned.

Then, many, many years ago, magical beings from the Old Lands of Magic left their territories and infiltrated the New World. They tricked and conned the innocent people with their magical abilities for personal gain. But they became more and more greedy. Chaos throughout the lands. Sorceresses and warlocks alike began to prey on those they deemed unworthy, scared those who resisted into submission, and slaughtered those who were beyond being frightened to do their will. The once tranquil Twelve Kingdoms fell to ruin to the power of the witches and wizards.

Twelve peaceful Kingdoms there were, until only one remained.

The King led his army into the final battle, the worst and most brutal the Worlds have ever seen against a mighty sorceress. Her army was larger than King could have ever imagined, and his men lost all hope. The last of the Twelve Kings fell, and the sorceress raided the kingdom. She slayed the King's wife as she protected a crib. Amidst the fighting and blood lust, the sorceress glared into the crib, where a wooden doll lay still and silent.

The sorceress screamed in anguish, and she searched about the castle for the babe.

The fight had subsided, and the sorceress knew the child was gone, long gone before she even arrived. She'd tortured the castle staff into madness to find the location of the King's child, but none of the servants submitted.

They had no idea where the child was hidden. They had not the slightest indication the child was even missing from its mother's side. For it was the King, who recognized their doom early on in battle that he sent his most trusted scout to the castle to hide his only child. Not to be seen, the small scout appeared through the nursery window and told the fair Queen to hand him the child.

The scout was beyond the High Ridge and on the path to the High Mountains when the sorceress attacked the castle. He saw it happen, but he didn't linger long. With a sweep of his billowing cloak, the scout quickly mounted his horse and with the sleeping child safely in his arm, the noble scout vanished into the cover of the trees and the long, moon-cast shadows of the mountain.

No sooner than the sorceress proclaimed herself queen of the kingdom, she'd sent out spies to look for the last of the royal blood line. The scout was always careful, but one day his luck ran short.

Once again the child disappeared from her grasp, but now the sorceress knew more information of what she was dealing with. The Twelve's Royal Scout.

The scout had run far and long when at last he had found what he was searching for.

The Path to the Magic Lands.

The fog that rested there never lifted. Even when the sun was high, the highest trees stretched their heavy leafed branches to block all sunlight from revealing the Path. But the roads here were dangerous, so the scout traveled light without a horse. He walked through the shadows of the forest like a wraith and slept high up in the trees if he could manage it. For five weeks he wondered through the Magic Lands like this with only a baby for company. In that time, he taught the child to be silent during bouts of noise and disturbance.

When the scout couldn't avoid being seen, he'd fasten a pouch over his back and have the child inside it under his cloak. Then he'd go about the villages he came across as an old, hunch over man. With these disguises, the scout never had to part with the baby, but these times of good fortune did not last.

Once again the sorceress nearly caught up with them, and the scout knew he had to put the child somewhere safe.

He'd stolen a horse and rode off, hard and long. The forest grew thicker, and the trees taller. Eventually, the horse could not penetrate the overgrown brush and the scout let the horse free. He looked up as he walked, and the height of the trees dwarfed him, making him seem as small as a fly to the average man. The trunks were large and round that it took several minutes to run passed them.

The scout trudged through the shrubs and weaved around massive trunks until he came to a cobble stone walk. He smiled as he knew his journey was almost over, and took to the road.

The farther he went the darker the road became, and the trees began to close in on him, the air became heavy, but still he walked on. In the darkness, the scout thought he'd spotted a light off the path, but he knew he couldn't follow it. If he went off the path he might never find it again. In fact the only way he was still on the path was the sound his heels made on the stones.

He continued to march in the dark. They were both hungry and thirsty, but he couldn't stop to build a fire. The forest harbored great creatures that would be attracted to light, and if they stepped off the path they would be lost until they died.

Now and then, he could see flickers of light around them in all sorts of colors. At first he was not sure if they were really there or if he was seeing things. In all the time he spent walking in the dark, his eyes had yet to adjust, but this was not an ordinary darkness. This was a protective enchantment.

He kept walking, concentrating hard on noise of his heels when a white speck of light appeared some distance away from him. It grew larger and larger, and he could see how its rays pulsed until the ball of light grew so large it could have easily enveloped the scout and the baby. The light was too bright for his eyes he had to shield them with his gloved hands.

"Do not be afraid, Royal Scout."

He blinked and lowered his hands as the light diminished, leaving a faeri in its wake.

Her head was covered with radiant Easter purple violets, and wore dark velvet cloak over her white gown.

"You have traveled far."

"Yes," the scout said. "I come in peace."

"But you have a favor to ask of us." She cocked her beautiful face so her pointed ears poked through her silver hair. "You want our people to hide the last free Man Child."

"Protect him, please." The scout showed her the bundle in his arm. "The sorceress's spies-"

"Yes," the faeri said knowingly. "The sorceress's spies are many, indeed, but she has no power here. Yet, her power is growing. Every day she ensnares new servants to do her evil deeds. She wants to keep the Race of Man as slaves as they once were. She knows that if this child survives, the sorcerers will eventually be defeated."

"Please take the child, and ensure the prophecy is completed." The scout pleaded with the faeri.

"She will have power to infiltrate us soon, if Man is too weak to resist her. The threat to the New World and even the Magic Lands grows if those greedy enough do not check themselves."

"They have taken over the Twelve Kingdoms. You want them defeated?"

"If their greed deepens, they will plunge the world of magic into darkness and drag all other worlds with it. All creatures will be lost. Even the strength of the Elves."

"Save yourself, then, if you will not save my entire race!" He held up the child to her as her wings beat together rapidly. "Just promise me you will protect him as long as you can."

"What will you do? If I take the Son of Adam?"

"I must lead the sorceress off his trail."

"You sacrifice yourself for small hope on a prophecy?" She narrowed her angled eyes at him. "A fool's hope?"

"I am a King's Royal Scout, entrusted to take the greatest of The Twelve's son to safety. This infant is the hope of all men now."

"Prophecies are prone to change." She said quickly.

"Men have nothing else to hope for. This child is our freedom, and if all men must believe this child can save us, so be it."

"If the faeries take this Son of Adam, whom all men believe, then he must learn to defend himself against the sorceress's powers." She said first looking on the child then. "Our magic will only take him so far. He will also need the wisdom of Elves."

"Promise me he will live protected until then." The scout dared her.

"With the combined forces of the Elves and Faeries, we will ensure the Son of King's survival."

The scout handed the child into her outstretched arms, and kissed the babe on the forehead before turning around on the stone road and walked away without turning back. The sorceress caught up with him some days later. He fought valiantly, but the sorceress's magic was too strong. He was badly wounded, and couldn't summon the strength to lift any weapon. The sorceress swooped down on him.

"Tell me where the King's child is," she said maliciously, "and I will relieve you of the pain."

"Send me to the netherworld if you wish," the scout spat, "but I will never tell you anything."

"You choose the wrong path, scout." The sorceress said through gritted teeth. "I will not let you join your Kings. You will live until my pleasure is your only concern."

From that day, the witches and warlocks formed a pact. They would replace the Twelve Kings, and search for the lost infant king. The sorceress took charge of discipline, torture, and law enforcement. All prisoners faced her unfair judgment.

The scout was subjected to all elements of torture. The scout hid his food, and stopped eating altogether, determined to die before he'd betray his young King. His death was slow and painful. On the his last day when the sorceress asked him where the Twelve's infant was hidden, he died with a smile on his face and a whisper of a laugh on his lips as he saw the last glimpse of fury if he would utter the words he always told her.

"The child is of no concern to you."


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One

The race of Man is threatened."

The elf looked around the council gathered before him.

"Men will not survive this encounter if they are not freed." He paused listening to the breathing of every being, then continued in a soft voice. "If Men should be enslaved for much longer, those who control them will take o'er these worlds and nothing will be left free or alive that would not be broken."

"We are not to meddle in the affairs of Men." A young elf spoke up courageously, and their leader watched him serenely. "What should we care if their will should be bent for others, or their hearts broken and their strength debilitated?"

"Hold your tongue!"

The elf shrank back and the leader pierced his eyes into a locking stare.

"You do not possess the wisdom only time can give, my son. You know nothing about how the Realms will fall if balance is not restored."

The elf looked into his father's eyes, absorbing the intensity that sparked like a flame that kindled the purpose inside.

"The sorcerers," their leader went on, finally moving his eyes away from his son's face, "know little of what they have done. Since they have occupied the New World, the world now intended for the growth of men, they have disrupted the course of the other realms. As you all know the Old Lands and the New World are the parents of the other nine realms. What events take place here appear, too, in the other realms.

"We are the Guardians of the Realms." The Elder went on. "Appointed by the Creator, Himself. It is our duty to put an end to the corruption the sorcerers have inflicted on our intertwined Worlds. And so it is our duty to-"

"My Lord!"

The elder stopped and an elf surrounded by several bright specks of light, ran forward with a bundle in his arms.

"This is a private council."

"Please, my Lord! There's been an attack!"

The lights grew bright and the faeri(s) appeared, veiled in their pulsing light.

"Our magic," the one cloaked in purple lowered her hood, "has plunged into ruin, my Lord Elf. The sorcerers have overwhelmed us."

The council members rustled about in surprise and whispered to each other, disquieted by this news. Many elves leaned forward in shock. Their lord held up his hand for silence. He listened intently for all voices to be hushed, then waved the faeri to continue.

"Their greed grows rapidly. Now that they have taken over Men, they have enough power to conquer other small, magical races. Too many were killed defending our forest, and I fear many survivors were kidnapped. We-" she pointed at the seven faeri(s) behind her "-are all that are free. However, with our numbers depleted, our magic will fade and be nonexistent if we don't act soon. Please help us, Lord of the Elves."

"How dare the sorcerers attack those whose magic is above their own!"

"Elzar," the Lord said, and his son held back his anger. "We all knew their power was gaining strength. And this terror is just one example of what their greed will do the Realms. The races, no matter how strong," his son shifted in the background, "will fall. We have one choice."

A cooing sound, soft as a yawn, broke the silence in the room.

The Lord stopped.

It had appeared he was the only one that heard it. He listened for it again. The sound came again like a dove. The elf stood up and walked about the room. The elves parted as he walked between them.

"My Lord?" His son followed behind him, and his father waved his hand to dismiss the question.

The wizened elf stood and listened for the soft call again and again until it lead him to the watch elf who still held a bundle in his arms. The Lord Elf slowly stepped up to the the elf, took hold of the blanket, and lifted the fabric. He stared at the source of the cooing with an unreadable expression.

"Your Majesty," the purple faeri said softly, taking the child from the elf. "Forgive me. I have brought danger to your front steps."

"A Son of Adam." The Lord breathed.

The council seemed not to breathe, and watched the elf intensively.

"Did the sorcerers know you have the child?"

The faeri shook her head.

"We have a new choice."

Their Lord took hold of the faeri's arm and gently led her back to his seat. After she'd been set down down with the child, the Lord swept away with a new energy.

"There is new hope." He said. "One free man child."

"What hope," his son sneered at the child in the faeri's arms, "is an infant?"

The Lord Elf gave his son a withering look. He held out his arms to the faeri, and she placed the child in his arms.

"This child is the last of Men still free from the sorcerers' power. There is still hope for the Race of Men."

"He is of noble birth, my Lord." The faeri spoke.

The elf cracked the smallest of smiles on his face.

"The Prophesy." He held up the child for all to see. "'The King of the Twelfth shall banish the darkness to the Underworld, and he will bring together the kingdoms and lead them to peace.'"

"Father."

The Lord of the Elves' smile drooped, and he lowered the child back into the crook of his elbow. He turned to his son.

"Two races have nearly ended." He told him. "The Prophecy is as the Creator tells us. He never lies."

"Then the Creator can save us as he promised."

"That time has not yet come!" A deep furrow became etched into the Lord's forehead between his eyes. "You have not listened to our teachings. 'Only when all hope is diminished, will the Creator come down to us, save those who repent and do His will, that He will smite evil, and all races will be free under his careful protection.' There is still hope for us all!"

"Not one sorcerer would dare fight us!"

"Go pray, Elzar." His father told him calmly

Elzar turned on his heel and marched away from his father.

"You still have much to learn. You will understand." He breathed as he looked after Elzar's retreating back.

"Now," the Lord Elf said coming back to the council, "we must endeavor to keep the Son of Adam safe."

"The pools." The purple faeri said.

"The portals? Between the Realms?" The Lord said. "Is that what you mean?"

"Yes." She said. "Send the Son of Adam to a different Realm. One where he will be safe."

"We shall, but we must invoke a powerful protection on him also: The Promise of Tombs, perhaps."

The council gasped and broke out at once in loud babble. They stared at him and he heard voices call out "You do not mean it!" "Surely, not!" "You know what will happen with such powerful magic! If the Promise is broken!"

"This child needs the protection!" Lord Elf bellowed above their chatter, and they fell silent. "The Promise with so many participants will be stronger than any other spell one of us alone can conjure!"

"The risks, my Lord!" some one called out.

"The Promise of Tombs is an ancient magical force. If I did not believe it necessary, I would not ask you all to join me in conjuring it." He looked around at them with hard eyes. "If the risks frighten you, then it is more assurance to me that this child will survive.

"Now, please," he said in a softer tone, "join me."

He turned to face the North Wall, and they all stepped forward to observe the names engraved there.

"Our Fathers!" Lord Elf cried out in a loud voice. "We have kept you close to us in the hope that your memory will guide us true! Now today, we call upon you to strengthen us where we are weak at heart! We invoke the Promise of Tombs, and pray we have the strength to hold our tongues!"

They knelt down before the tombs, and began to pray aloud, each voice encouraged by the sound of the next, and they chanted in their own tongue the spell to bind their shared secret.

In the years to come, this moment is remembered to this day. Their vow was translated, and read in the Common Tongue:

"'Our Fathers! Hear our prayer! Make our faith as strong as your faith. Make our will your iron will. Hear our prayer! Keep our tongues still to keep silent our secret. Hear our prayers, and for ever and ever!'"

The elves of the council quaked with fear at what they had spoken. Such an event as this, that would've surely been talked of, was now silenced forever. Only Lord Elf was his own self, as he stood on his feet.

He waved to the faeries.

All he could say was, "Come!"

They left abruptly, and on horse back they traveled to the Temple of Pools, as the faeries called them. To the elves, the clear waters were Fountain Portals.

"Where?" The purple faeri asked.

The Lord Elf looked around at the pools.

The pools were arranged in a circle of nine with two in the middle, representing the Realms.

They walked between the pools glimpsing into the clear waters.

"One where magic has no place. There, he would be safest." The elf stopped, gazing into the pool in front of him as the breeze pulled at his robes. "Here."

The faeri came closer.

"I will go with him."

"No." The elf said. "You must replenish your race and increase your numbers. A land without the light of the faeries would be a sad, dark place indeed."

"But me magic is almost gone." She argued. "Here, where magic has no place, my will survive."

"If the faeries magic fades here," he said, "you won't have the magic to go to this Realm, or anywhere."

She bowed her head.

"I will take him there."

"But someone must stay with him."

"I will stay in this world until his is of age. But first," the elf bent and pick up a fallen stick, "I need a storage for my magic."

"You're parting with your magic? How will you return?"

"The pools are in every Realms, I will manage." He kept his eyes on the staff, and waved his hand over it.

The stick formed into a cane and a clear blueish gem was embedded on the top. Intricate carved designs traced their own path down the cane. A black-wood cane, with gold embellished indentations of leaves accenting rim around the gem.

He muttered an incantation under his breath, and he became flushed with concentration. He tumbled forward. The faeri caught him before he could fall in any pools. He recovered quickly, and held the staff gingerly.

He took the child from one of her fellow faeries, and put a hand on the purple faeri's shoulder.

"Watch over my son, Elzar, will you?"

The faeri nodded, and she watch as the elf stepped into the pool. It's depths should have taken him down, but the elf stood with little water over his boots.

He held up the staff, and cried out in a loud voice, "Da mihi transitus!"

On the last syllable, the elf brought down the staff and struck the water in the pool with a loud noise as if the staff made impact with metal. There was a bright light, and the elf and infant disappeared in a sudden fog around the pool.

When the fog cleared they were gone.


End file.
